


After Dark: Hartwin Fairytale Collection

by ebenflo



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Asphyxiation, Consensual Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Hartwin, Hurt Eggsy Unwin, Hurt/Comfort, Kingsman: The Golden Circle Spoilers, M/M, One Shot Collection, PWP, Protective Harry Hart, Rimming, Sleep, Sleep Sex, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: "...and they all lived happily never after."All the fairytales you remember from your childhood reimagined as dark tales with a Hartwin twist. Rating upped to reflect Chapter 2, which features consensual somnophilia.





	1. Sleeping Beauty

In the end it isn't a sniper in Benghazi, a grenade in Mosul or even a lone gunman in Beirut. Instead, it's Eggsy's own fucking _prick_ of a stepfather, after a bottle of cheap spirits and a sucker punch that sends Eggsy's skull careening into the cradle of the nearest gutter. Eggsy was vulnerable, exposed after an evening of sweets and games with his little sister. He never even saw the blow coming, never had a chance.

Harry's stomach roils.

When Eggsy wakes, Harry is going to make sure that Dean Baker will never lay another hand on him again. In fact, when Harry is through, Dean Baker will not have hands. If only Eggsy will wake up.

"You need to rest," Merlin rolls in on silver wheels, fingers twitching over the digital clipboard in his lap. A lack of legs no hinderance to his loyalty to Kingsman - or to Harry and Eggsy.

Harry looks up with weary eyes that have been propped awake for over forty-seven hours. His hands have barely left the soft folds of Eggsy's too-still lap. Everything about Eggsy is too still. His mouth that famously ran "faster than a leaky Estate tap" is silent. His eyes that danced with mirth at the little things are shielded behind lids that look paper-thin, the veins concealed within them faint threads of blue. Harry begs them to open with hot tears that fall on the bird bones of Eggsy's unmoving hands. His hands. Whether steadfast and sure on the grip of a pistol or sinking hard enough into Harry's hips to bruise, they were always animated, always _alive_.

"When will he wake?" Harry grapples to work his vocal cords. How long has he been in this chair, how long since he stretched and moved? He rouses gingerly as if from a thick tangle of brambles. The hospital room is silent and cool; Michelle, Roxy, long since surrendered to the clutches of exhausted slumber. Harry is envious of the peace they find, lost in dreams. For him there is no peace, only the endless night and the dragons that claw at his chest, thirsty for vengeance.

"Difficult to say, the doctors are guarded in their prognosis."

"Some Wizard you are, then." Harry's attempt at humour falls flat and mirthless between them. He gratefully accepts the warm, broad hand Merlin lays on his forearm.

"Go on Harry, get some rest. He'll still be here when you wake."

Harry isn't so sure that if he does as Merlin suggests, Eggsy won't dissolve away like a mirage. He give a faint consenting nod and Merlin takes his leave, either believing Harry or acknowledging that either way he won't change Harry's mind. Harry's roving eye is caught by the subtle reflex-like twitch of Eggsy's rosebud lips, the swell of pink flesh begging to be kissed, savoured, loved.

"I miss you," Harry whispers, lifting Eggsy's hand to his mouth and pressing tear-salted kisses across the bruised skin. "I love you, dearest boy. More than you will ever fathom, I love you, I love you. Please."

Harry brushes a matted lock of hair from Eggsy's face, cherubic and serene in its coma-induced state of rest.

"Please Eggsy, come back to me. My love, come back."


	2. Sleeping Beauty: Reboot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking cues from the original ultra-dark version of Sleeping Beauty & the Emily Browning film "Sleeping Beauty". Not a continuation of the first chapter.
> 
> Warnings: Consensual somnophilia, teases at erotic asphyxiation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord Jesus have mercy on my sinful soul.

Harry looks down at the slumbering form of Eggsy Unwin, sprawled casually on the cool and crisp linen sheets before him. His skin is bare and golden in the flickering light cast by the fire. Like this, in sleep, Eggsy loses his hard edges and sneering visage, taking on an all together more innocent countenance. Which makes this even harder for Harry.

 _Harder? Christ, Hart, get a grip_. Harry groans to himself. The proud mound of his erection presses insistently against the firm trappings of his bespoke suit pants. He can feel the steady throb of want, begging for release; to spring free and sink into the achingly familiar warmth of Eggsy's body.

They'd discussed this beforehand of course. Extensively and in detail, much to Harry's rising anxiety despite Eggsy's soft reassurances.

"Want this," Eggsy had said, nuzzling the underside of Harry's jaw, his voice filled with quiet awe. "I want _you,_ Harry, I trust you. This is for you. For us."

Harry thinks of Eggsy's hooded gaze as the younger man takes the drug like a shot, licking his lips afterwards as if to savour the last drop. It doesn't take long for the concoction to take hold of Eggsy in its morpheus-like grip, his head lolling back and his limp body sinking into the embrace of the pillows around him. No doubt this wasn't what the Kingsman tech department had in mind when they created it in the first place.

Despite the longing in his belly to taste Eggsy, to touch him, Harry takes his time, sitting down next to Eggsy, his eyes raking over the perfection of Eggsy's long toes, the bony grooves of his ankles. He swallows hard as his gaze drifts up Eggsy's plump and generous thighs, smattered with fine golden hairs. Harry's breath catches at the vision of the tiny silk panties he helped Eggsy pick out, the flimsy sapphire material barely containing the delicious bulge within.

He fights the maddening desire to dive straight for Eggsy's currently softened cock and skips instead to Eggsy's belly, the firm planes of muscles softened slightly by sleep. Harry ghosts his fingers over the dip where Eggsy's breast bone ends, over the pert buds of Eggsy's nipples, unable to resist giving one a pinch and watching as Eggsy's expression flickers just the slightest. Harry continues his journey to the column of Eggsy's throat, fingers of both hands circling the vulnerable flesh and pressing firmly against his windpipe, just so. Eggsy's chest hitches as his body fights against the sudden lack of air. Harry lets out a little gasp at the vision and slackens his grasp, pressing the heel of one hand against the rock-hard bulge of his arousal. He can imagine the moisture gathering at the tip, smearing over the soft cotton of his briefs. He presses the thumb of the hand still holding Eggsy's throat over the familiar little beauty spot. His eyes threaten to blur with tears of restrained pleasure at the thought that Eggsy trusts him so much to give himelf over to Harry like this.

"Darling," he murmurs, despite knowing that Eggsy, lost to a world of dreams, can't hear him. "Oh, little darling."

He skirts his fingertips over the bow of Eggsy's parted lips, feels the little puffs of warmth from Eggsy's breath, deepening again after being suddenly cut off only moments before. Harry imagines replacing his fingers with the reddened head of his cock, imagines painting the curve of Eggsy's mouth with a slick sheen of pre-cum. He closes his eyes and his fingers curl into the wet seam of Eggsy's mouth, touches his tongue as he thinks of kneeling over Eggsy, fucking into the cradle of his palm until he spills his load over Eggsy's mouth, decorating his cheeks and lashes with cum. _Later,_ Harry promises himself. This, and so much more.

"Yes, oh my love," Harry whispers, pressing his own mouth, wet with pooled saliva, to the angle of Eggsy's collarbone, breathing in the soft powdery scent of Eggsy's soap. His tongue chases the freckled slope of Eggsy's shoulder, and he nuzzles into the crease of Eggsy's armpit, brushing his nose against the downy hairs there. He wants Eggsy to smell like their sweat, their cum; is driven by the sudden thought of Eggsy's asshole and urgently needs to taste it, to spread the pert globes of his cheeks and expose the pucker that belongs to Harry and Harry alone. The thought sends a giddy thrill from his belly to his balls, heavy and swollen.

Harry wriggles down the length of Eggsy's body, pausing to rest his hot cheek against the swell of Eggsy's prick, before savagely gripping the edge of the lace and tearing. Eggsy can forgive him later. He marvels at the beautiful length of Eggsy's sex, the soft folds of his foreskin and just a peek of the tip. He licks his lips and thinks of wrapping them around Eggsy's cock, peeling back the foreskin and lapping at the winking aperture of his slit. The serum Eggsy drank hardly came with instructions, though if Harry was to correctly understand some of the technical notes in the Kingsman files, it facilitated muscle relaxation including all sphincters. It would not, however, permit Eggsy to achieve or maintain an erection in his current state.

Harry's head spins. He cradles Eggsy's bollocks in his hand, feeling their weight and their warmth. Oh, if he were to lathe his tongue over the delicate flesh of Eggsy's sac, draw his bollocks into Harry's mouth and feel them reflexively tense as Harry strokes the skin of Eggsy's taint. Eggsy's limp form is a dead weight as Harry shifts him on to his belly, positions a pillow under his hips to present the delicious globes of his ass to Harry's carniverous mouth.

Harry pauses. Eggsy slumbers on. Harry rakes his eyes over the plump swell of Eggsy's ass, takes them in his hands and fucking _squeezes_ hard enough to leave bruises. Sucking in a ragged breath Harry pulls at Eggsy's cheeks, revealing the delicate furl of his asshole. As Harry runs a thumb over the little rosebud it quivers invitingly. Harry despairs for a moment - a brief one, as it turns out - that he can't listen to the exquisite sounds that usually come from Eggsy Unwin's mouth when his ass is being rather expertly eaten out, before he ducks his head and buries his tongue in one long stroke. Turns out the tech department were correct about muscle relaxation. It probably didn't hurt either that Eggsy, considerate boy he is, had prepared himself before their little experiment. Harry moans against Eggsy's pliant asshole as he fucks into it, fingers still stretching out his cheeks.

Harry realises with a flush of embarassment that he is rutting against the sheets, and if he is to keep going like this he will come in his pants. Harry Hart has few limits when it comes to carnal pleasures, but soiling his pants like a tawdry college lad is where he draws the line. Regretfully abandoning the task of tongue-fucking Eggsy, Harry hastily fumbles and frees himself from the confines of his trousers and drawers, the sound of his jangling belt buckle and familiar _vroop_ of the zip somehow more obscene in the guarded silence than the sloppy wet noises of their sex. He almost cries out with relief when at last - _at last_ \- he draws himself into his hand, lets muscle memory guide his thumb over his slit to spread the dribble of pre-cum. Pressing hard between Eggsy's shoulder blades with one hand he brutally fucks dry into the other, grunting with exertion as he nears completion, feels the familiar pull down low in his belly. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, the wave of his orgasm surging through him and bowing his back.

"E-Eggsy - fuck! Oh..oh god."

Harry breathes hard and fast, his arousal prolonged by the tableau of Eggsy's bare back covered in a tapestry of his sweat and semen. He lets his head droop forward, catches his weight on his hands, presses a drowsy kiss to the back of Eggsy's neck. His eyes flit over to the clock beside their bed, the red digits glowing 11:49 p.m. There are many hours between now and dawn, before Eggsy is due to wake.

His beauty sleeps on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've survived all the way to the end, please consider leaving a comment. It's the first time I've posted anything this filthy on AO3 and it's making me incredibly nervous.


End file.
